Foxtrot-12
by Fred-104
Summary: Freelancer Agent New York wakes up. No one is willing to explain how, but he did.
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's Note: Hey, I decided to try my hand in Red vs Blue, and this is the result. Sorry for any spelling errors, this was all typed on my iPod at four in the morning :P If you are so inclined, please leave a review!**_

York's healing unit did a lot better job than anyone gave it credit for, apparently. One second he was on the ground with three bullets in his blasted left side, and the next Project Freelancer medics were waking him up. It was a miracle he was still alive. Or at least that's what the docs said. Living was great and all, but in that second before D gave him the meds and stopped his internal struggle against his failing body, he had realized that "she" might be there waiting for him. Then he woke up with the Director telling him all about the great lengths he had to go to to retrieve York, and how lucky he was to be there. They never told him where D was. They didn't even tell him if Tex finished what she'd set out to do.

He was still grateful, though. He wasn't even sure why. He guessed that when you were brought back to life, you oughta be grateful to the guy who made it possible. He owed the Director a debt, so he agreed to work with the other hundred-or-so soldiers that were the Director's personal detail. Not to mention, he'd been given what he called, "Movie Mondays": one night a week, he got to totally blow off work and do whatever he wanted, by himself. So, he would watch old Sci-Fi movies in his room every Monday.

The Director had decided that York needed to go to some weird therapy with the Counselor to deal with the sudden loss of D. He hated it. All the Counselor wanted to do was talk about feelings...York was running out of excuses to get the creep off his back. Breathing down his to him. It was awful.

It wasn't entirely bad, though. North had showed up out of the blue a couple weeks after York. It was good to catch up with an old friend, and someone who seemed to understand his fascination of 21st century space movies. York never really found out the full details of North's mysterious appearance, he just knew that North was seriously ticked at his sister.

He heard a couple of guys talking, and after pushing past the fact that there was allegedly a female Freelancer that had survived impossible odds, York started to notice a couple of whispers about the Insurrection as well. After deciding to focus himself on this, York and North started to divert time from Movie Mondays to research the surviving Insurrectionist factions and after extensive study realized that there was an understandably large chance that some former Insurrectionist was pissed about losing some buddy and was going to hunt the Director down for it.  
Not like they were all that worried though. The research had just given them something to do.

North brought it up while the two agents ate lunch.

"Do you think we should tell somebody?" he asked.

"I don't think so. If two grunts that belong on a battlefield can figure this out, it seems impossible that the Director wouldn't know, don't you think? Hey, do you think a combat knife would be able to slice this...mystery meat?"

"Are you kidding me? You're gonna need one of those lightsabers." North replied(They watched the original _Star Wars_ trilogy basically every other Monday). The men poked at their lunch for a few more minutes, then picked up their helmets and got ready to go back on their rounds of the facility when the muffled sound of an explosion carried through the area and the entire mess hall shook. The fifteen soldiers that had previously been attempting to force down the "nutritious" muck on their trays literally jumped at the chance to be anywhere but where they were, convinced that even a battlefield was less dangerous than the sludge giving them the stink eye from its spot on every plate.

York looked at North and grinned, saying,

"I'm almost positive the Director knows by now." North simply shook his head and slipped his helmet on, compressing it with a hiss.

The Counselor's soft voice came over the intercom without a single hint of worry in his voice and said,

"Rogue Simulation Troopers have breached the southeast corridor. All available soldiers to the Southeast quadrant." then something unexpected happened. Panic crept into the Counselor's voice as he frantically yelled, "No Director! She's not ready! She's not-" then the forgotten communicator faded to static.

"What was that?!" North exclaimed as he and York pushed their way through debris and soldiers toward the area of the explosion.

"How should I know? I was too busy to get my lunch to stop chewing on my hand to be paying attention to that!" York answered.

As they neared a corner York started to hear gunshots. He held a fist up to shoulder-height and North stopped immediately, checking his S2 sniper for the last time and York quietly pumped a shell into his shotgun.

York crept closer to the corner, his ears picking up any noise. After a few seconds, the shooting stopped and he heard someone "whisper"-it was more of a yell set to the kind of voice used when whispering,

"Hey, Grif, do you think they left? The rude guys aren't yelling at me anymore."

Grif, York assumed, yelled,

"How do I know Caboose?! All I've been doing was pulling the trigger in the general direction of the other guys! Crazy Lady never told me that I was supposed to know what I was shooting at!"

Crazy Lady...he wasn't sure who that was. He thought that Tex had been dealt with. It definitely wasn't "her".

Another voice was butting in now. "Dag gummit Grif! I oughta shoot you where you stand!"

Then Grif spoke again, "If you hadn't noticed, Sarge, I'm sitting. Standing is too exhausting."

There was a gunshot and the lazy one screamed.

"What the heck, Sarge?! You shot me!"

"Oh, relax ya baby! It was just a leg wound with my secondary firearm! Who knows, I might be able to use you as a living shield later."

One of the twenty soldiers that had arrived by then whispered, "Can we shoot these guys now?"

York answered by turning the corner and raising his shotgun to his shoulder, sighting in the ugly yellow one. The other soldiers all ran out and took formation behind him, ready to fire on the three simulation troopers at his command.

The thing that made him hesitate, though, was what was walking up behind the simulation soldiers. Black armor, an MA5B, and ready to rip them apart, was Tex.

"Wait, which ones do we shoot at?" One of the ODSTs asked in frustration, and Tex answered by picking the yellow one off the ground the throwing him head-first into a wall. The red one was in the act of bringing a shotgun to bare on the Freelancer when the weapon flew from his hands and he was hanging in the air with Tex's hand on his throat. The blue one turned to Tex and yelled, "That is NOT how you hug!" before his feet were kicked out from beneath him and he hit the ground with a painful thud.

One of the men behind York yelled "Oh yeah!" and pumped his fist in the air. Then Tex came from the right side and tackled him, throwing him into four other men while Tex shot three men on the left side. Tex dropped the red one and ran toward the ODSTs.

Needless to say, no one knew what was going on.

Someone got out a "What the he-" before he was taken out by two Tex's, and a third shot his friend.

York turned and fired a shell at Tex1, before Tex3 kicked his shotgun into the air, and Tex2 went in for hand-to-hand. She swung her left fist in a round swing and York dropped beneath it, kicking her legs out from under her. North hit her in the head with the butt of his rifle and turned back to back with York as Tex1 and Tex3 circled them.

"Not to state the obvious, but something's off about Tex...s?" York ended the statement with a question.

"You're right. She seems to slow for her old sel...ves." North answered.

Tex1 turned and fired a quick burst at a marine taking cover the in the hallway opposite York. York threw himself at her exposed back, tackling her from behind while North fired two rounds at Tex3, one of them catching her in the left arm.

York punched Tex1 in the face-or faceplate, if you want to get specific-, then dodged a similar punch from Tex1 as she tried to fight from beneath him. York quickly grabbed Tex1's head and twisted hard to the left. There was a pop and Tex1 stopped struggling against York.

Tex3 picked up a discarded SMG that had skittered into the hallway when a recently-deceased marine dropped it and snapped the action with her nearly useless left hand. She stepped around the corner and held the SMG pointed at North, ready to fire when a bullet found itself right through the center of her faceplate.

York walked over to North and began to form a sentence about finding the rest of the Tex's when the barrels of two MA37s landed on the base of each Freelancer's neck. "You missed one." Tex2 said with a scoff.

A gunshot sounded, and a body hit the ground.

**_Author's Note: So there's the first chapter! This will probably be two...maybe three chapters. Tell me how you like it, or if you didn't like it, and what was either good or bad about it, in a review!_**


	2. What? Waitwhat?

**_Author's Note: Here's the next chapter in the series! This will be a three-chapter sort of deal, with the third chapter being a lot shorter and having a bit of an epilogue setting to it. Enjoy!_**

_**Olivecat: Thanks! I whill continue! I whill!**_

_**Lili-Hunter: I'm glad you're enjoying it, and I will continue it! I hadn't thought of North finding out, but it's in the story now, thanks to you. So, here's my continuing. That sentence didn't really work, but whatever.**_

_**Ortholeine: Sorry it's confusing, but I couldn't leave North dead, I like him way too much for that.**_

"Hah! I finally got to kill her!" Sarge crowed triumphantly. "I've waited so long to do that. You're next, Grif!"

York stepped over the body of Tex2 and grabbed the barrel of the shotgun the Red One was holding, then hit him in the face with his own weapon. While the trooper was going down, already unconscious, North stepped toward the other two and hit the Yellow One between the legs with his rifle as though he were golfing. Grif fell to the ground and muttered in a notably higher register, "What's wrong with you people?"

Caboose looked at his two downed friends and said, "You people really don't know how to make friends, do you?" then he hit the ground, unconscious before anyone could touch him.

"What is with these guys?" York asked North before picking up his shotgun and walking to one of the Tex's. He leaned down and slowly pulled off her helmet, revealing...

Nothing. Well, technically not "nothing", per se. There was a head, a black head. Clearly a robot. These were supposed to be robot copies of Tex.  
"Talk about Blinded By the Light." he said as he looked over the body.

He moved toward a communications terminal. "Phyllis, the simulation troopers no longer pose a threat. Be advised, Agent Texas duplicates somehow entered the base and are currently kicking both sides' butts."

Phyllis answered with her typical cheery voice, "Thank you, Agent New York. I will alert the other soldiers, but it would appear Agent Carolina and a squad of Simulation Troopers are taking care of the other Agent Texas's."

York stopped. Phyllis had made a miscalculation somewhere. She just said the wrong name. That was all.

North stepped in. "Say again, Phyllis. It sounded like you said Carolina."

"Affirmative, Agent North Dakota. Agent Carolina is fighting the Agent Texas robots."

"Thanks, Phyllis. We'll keep you posted."

North looked at York. "Sounds like the robots have us kinda outnumbered."

York swallowed and nodded.

"Simulation Troopers, Tex's and Carolina's, oh my!"

"Hey Phyllis, where exactly is all this proverbial crap hitting the fan?" North asked.

"West corridor, hangar 9."

"Thanks, Phyllis. While we're gone, could you figure out where all the duplicates keep coming from?"

Phyllis answered immediately. "All Project Freelancer doubles have been created by Director Church."

York felt anger well up inside himself at that. Had the Director really made all these Texas's? Had he really made a second Carolina? It didn't seem beyond him.

North led the way out of the area and the two agents were soon running down the West corridor, passing Hangar 7…8…and there it was. Hangar 9.

"Okay, York. You take out any Tex's and Simulation Troopers you see. I'll handle Carolina."

"I'm good, North. Quit worrying about it."

North pushed York away from the door. "No you're not, York. You didn't let much go back there, but I know you're not ready to kill any Freelancers. Especially not her."

"I killed Tex." York said defiantly.

"That was different. There were three of them. Let me handle Carolina's dupe and you handle everything else, got it?"

York nodded reluctantly. "Yes father." the door opened and a Tex burst out-right into a round from North's sniper. York charged in the doorway and shot another Tex point blank in her gut, taking it down instantly. There was a Simulation Trooper with blue armor with yellow trim standing there, and Washington's voice said,

"Come on! How many doubles could he have made?"

North paused for a moment and said, "Wash?" Then Wash took a swing at him.

York looked for other targets and found just what he had hoped he wouldn't-Carolina.

She took a step closer and stared. "York?"

It was definitely "her" voice, but if "she" was really here, he'd have been taken out by now. She made that painfully clear the last time they'd seen each other.

Then his mind went into combat mode. He grabbed her left wrist, twisting the gun out of it and then wrenching it behind her back. She swung her right elbow at him, but he caught it and twisted it into the same position as her left arm.

He felt a bad joke coming. He would claim that he tried to stop it, but it came out none the less. "Give me your lunch money." There it was. York had officially joked with a robot fake of Carolina. "Woah, where did that come from?"

The robot glanced behind itself and...laughed?

Not the evil, creepy laugh York had seen in movies with clones fighting the original or something like that, but a laugh laugh. The kind of laugh that is only laughed when you think something is genuinely funny.

"York, you still haven't made up ANY good jokes?" The robot twisted out of his hold easily(he'd later say it was so easy because he was surprised and had all but let go), and turned to face him.

Crap. Now he was dead. He knew it. The robot would pretend to be Carolina, he would eventually fall for it, and then it would stab him in the back. He'd seen it happen before. In movies.

His shotgun was only twenty feet away. The Director wouldn't have been able to get the speed armor enhancement back from the Meta, so he should be able to outrun the robot to his weapon.

York turned and ran for his shotgun, diving for it and rolling, ending in a crouching position with his shotgun aimed at where the Robot was running at him.

Or at least it ought to be. But it was still standing there. It hadn't moved. York stood and approached it slowly, his shotgun trained on it the entire time.

"What, was your programming faulty? Can't you move? Are you somehow inhibited by the Three Laws Safe?"(They had also watched iRobot multiple times)

The robot shook its had at him and that laugh came again. It was so bizarre to see a robot laugh.

"York, you know how robots were never given human faces? No one could ever figure it out?" It was reaching for its helmet. York realized that this was obviously another trick to keep his eyes on it while another robot came and killed him. He looked around and saw the Simulation troopers, then Wash. Wash had his helmet off and was talking to North, which was weird, because robots didn't have faces but Wash did. The Simulation Troopers from the other area had come here and the sergeant was apparently punching the lazy one's bullet wound. Everyone's helmet was off but Carolina's fake's.

"Okay, so you convinced everyone else that you're not a robot. Impressive. I still don't believe you." He turned back to the robot and found it right next to him, its hands up to its helmet seals. "Take a look around. No one in here is a robot." she took off her helmet, and York recoiled at the sight of...Carolina's face. He took off his helmet as he looked at her, then Wash, and even the Simulation soldiers and a grin split his face in two.

"Hey there, 'Lina." He said as nonchalantly as he could. "Long time no see. Just to be sure, though, you aren't robots?" Carolina smiled back and smacked the back of his head.

A voice spoke from inside her helmet, definitely not hers, probably male, saying,

"Ugh, I don't know if I want to turn that into a screenplay or vomit. Probably both."

"Epsilon..." Carolina warned.

"Okay, okay, shutting up."

"Wait, didn't that guy break Wash last time he was put into someone's head?" York asked.

There were gunshots outside the hangar doors. Ten or so marines ran past the door, shooting behind them, and one taking a shot and falling.

"She'll tell you later." the voice answered.

"Would somebody tell the psycho to get us out of here before whatever's chasing those marines catches up to us?" Wash said to no one in particular.

Phyllis's voice blared out of a speaker somewhere overhead. "I would advise you to find somewhere to hide. Pelican incoming at terminal velocity."

"Terminal velocity? That sounds like Four-Seven-Niner to me." North said with the tiniest betrayal of worry in his voice.

"Yah, we called in a few favors." Wash said with a grin and shoved his helmet back down over his head.

A voice came over the com and said, "Called in a few favors? I've never owed you guys anything. This is up to probably forty favors from each of you."

"Just get in here so we can get out!" A dark red colored Simulation trooper whined.

Tex's began to enter the room, filing at the edge of the hangar.

"Niner, you really need to hurry." North said over the com as he checked his ammunition.

"I'll get there when I get there!" she yelled back.

The pelican crashed through the outer doors and sent Tex's sprawling. "Everybody in!" Niner yelled, "I don't want you hurting my bird any more than you already have!"

All of the soldiers ran to the pelican, loading in and dodging fire from the few Tex's that were still aware enough to shoot at them.

"Hurry it up ladies, I've got date to get to!" Niner yelled at them from the cockpit. The blood bay lifted to a close and the Pelican began backing away, firing its chin gun at the assembled Texas's in the hanger. "Hang on women, this is gonna be a bumpy ride!"

**_Author's Note: Yay, the second chapter! What'd you think? Tell me in a review! I realize that I kind of screwed the creation of robots over with that whole "Robots don't have faces" thing, but it was a necessary part of the plot development. Was that bad of me? Tell me in a review!_**


	3. I am terrible with chapter names

**_Author's Note: Chapter 3! Depending on your opinions, this may or may not be the last chapter. Who knows, I might be compelled to make this go even a little longer._**

**_themythick: Thanks! I try to make it comical._**

**_Ortholeoine: Not much of a story unless York has a friend! Besides, I couldn't stand to let North stay dead. York probably still thinks Carolina's a robot, :P_**

**_Lili-Hunter: I dunno, I kind of feel bad for Wash...North's going to be pretty mad...Maybe I will be doing more chapters, I don't know._**

**_Flying By Wire: Thanks! I'll try to keep this up to par with the last chapters!_**

**_Ilessthan3KH: Thanks! Sorry it took so long for the next chapter!_**

**_Thanks to everyone who followed or favorited this story!_**

The assembled Project Freelancer agents and simulation troopers bounced around in the bay of the Pelican as it recklessly flew around the base.

"Does anyone know how to strap into one of these things?" Someone yelled, York didn't know who.

Wash and North collided in mid-air on their way to hit the wall, taking two others down as they went. York grabbed onto an un-latched restraint and hung on for dear life. He then noticed that said restraint actually was latched, and their was a white-armored Freelancer inside of it. York's first reaction was to try to kill the Freelancer, assuming that it was Wyoming, before he noticed the subtle changes in armor, such as the shoulder plates.

"Utah?" He said before the Pelican suddenly lurched and his loosened grip failed him, sending him flying into another agent he hadn't noticed before, a woman wearing purple armor and an ODST helmet. "Georgia?" Then he was thrown again.

The simulation trooper in yellow armor screamed as he collided with Carolina, then was thrown into the cockpit.

Lots of screaming came from the cockpit-most of it screams of terror from the simulation trooper-and he came tumbling back out, end over end.

York finally grabbed onto the restraints of one seat and buckled himself in. Wash flew past his face, arms flailing for support and York grabbed one, holding onto the Freelancer until he was strapped in. From the cockpit, York heard,

"Ooh, that's new."

"Did you hear her?" Wash asked, "'That's new'? That doesn't sound good!" Niner poked her head out of the cockpit and said,

"Ladies and Gentleladies, please find a seat, we're about to experience some turbulance."

"Turbulance?!" the dark-red simulation trooper yelled, his voice cracking. York shook his head and was about to say something when the "turbulence" started to kick in.

The pelican jumped about four feet, throwing North onto the floor. The purple Freelancer took that opportunity to roll to a chair and strap himself in.

"We're...clearing...weapons range..." Niner spoke through tightly clenched teeth as she hauled back hard, the Pelican gaining altitude quickly. "And, we're clear!" She exclaimed. "Please feel free to unfasten your seatbelts and lower your lunch trays. But keep in mind, we'll be landing in ten minutes."

"Landing in ten minutes?! How close were you guys to our base?" North asked incredulously.

"Hm...ten minutes away when flying." The dark blue trooper said with a very young-sounding voice.

"Yeah, weren't you listening to the attractive pilot?" The greenish-bluish one said, emphasizing the _attractive_.

"Not gonna happen, Tucker. Give it up will you?" Wash shook his head at the man.

"Are you kidding me? There is an extreme shortage of women in our camp, I am going to hit on every last one of them. Until they beat me. Several times."

"Will you all shut up? I've got an extremely difficult landing procedure to go through." Niner called from the cockpit.

"'Difficult'? What's so difficult about 'turn the engine off and land'?" The dark red trooper asked. Suddenly, York's stomach jumped into his throat for a split second before it was slammed back into place as Niner cut the engines and dropped the Pelican to the ground. The rear door lowered and York lunged for the grass he saw behind it, away from the Pelican at all costs.

"Land, I never thought I could miss you so much." He said happily.

"Quit your crying, York." Carolina said as she kicked him while walking past.

"Hey! That's abuse! I think that should be written down and sent to our superiors." York exclaimed as he rose to his feet.

"'Abuse'? I'll show you abuse." Carolina kicked York's legs out from under him and pushed his head down as he fell. York didn't move except to look up at Carolina, then drop his head back to the ground.

"Hey, speaking of abuse, I think Agent Washington has something to tell you about your sister, Agent Purple!" The dark blue trooper seemed to jump for joy at everything he said. York liked him.

"Caboose, I told you not to say anything about that!" Wash hissed, then looked up and slowly backed away as North approached him.

"What do you have to tell me about South? I think she and I need to have a little...'talk' about how things went the last time I saw her."

Wash held his hands up, "Okay, don't freak out, but..." York stopped listening when Carolina helped him to his feet. When he was standing, York couldn't help but hear,

"YOU DID WHAT?!" Come from North.

"I'm sorry!" Wash yelled as he turned and ran, an enraged North on his tail.

"You think you are, but you aren't! I'm going to show you what _sorry_ feels like!" North screamed.

The red trooper with a shotgun leaned toward York,

"What's his name?" He indicated toward North, "I like him."

York was interrupted from answering when Wash accidentally knocked a stack of crates onto Carolina and himself.

"Sorry!"

York shoved crates off of himself and then started pulling them off of Carolina.

"I think we should stop North before he does something he regrets." He said to the red-headed Freelancer.

"Oh, I'm not going to regret this!" He yelled as he passed by. Then he jumped and tackled Wash, beating him as soon as they hit the ground. York looked to Carolina, but saw she was doubled over in laughter. He looked around and saw that only the trooper with a shotgun, the yellow trooper, and Utah weren't otherwise disposed by laughing, trying not to cry, or beating the crap out of the guy who killed your little sister.

"C'mon, guys." York said, gesturing for the other three to follow him. "Utah, Lazy, grab Wash. Bossy, help me grab North."

"Do we have to? It looks like a lot of work..." Utah hit him with the back of his hand. "Alright, I'll help!"

"Darn right you'll help." Utah said with a warning in his voice.

York and Bossy began to approach North cautiously.

"His name's not Bossy, by the way." York looked around himself and found that the dark blue trooper had somehow gotten next to him without his noticing. "It's Sarge. And I'm Caboose. That's Grif, but Lazy works too."

"Grab him!" Sarge yelled and dove onto North. It looked like Sarge had just started hitting things, so York said,

"Caboose, get him out of there. I guess I'll have to do this myself..." He reached down and grabbed one of North's arms, then the other. He heaved the Freelancer onto his feet, then shoved him onto the ground. Holding him down, he said, "Caboose, get me one of those crates!" When Caboose came over, York kicked the top of the crate off. With Sarge's help he lifted North and threw him into the crate. "Get the lid on, get the lid on!"

Caboose slammed the lid back down on the crate and then sat on it, locking North into the crate. York walked over to where Wash was slowly standing up.

"Thanks, York. He probably would have-" York held up a finger.

"Two things, Wash. Your new armor color is...weird to say the least. Second, you killed North's sister?"

"Um..." Wash took an involuntary step back, but York stepped forward to match him. "She tried to kill me first. And she killed North. I thought." Wash shrugged, then stopped retreating and looked straight at York. York shrugged in return and walked away, chuckling to himself.

"Hey! Let me out now! I need to beat Wash up." North's muffled voice came from the crate.

"Um...the purple guy wants to be let out, because he needs to be washed up. Probably for dinner." Caboose said.

"Can't do that North!" Carolina called to him, then said, "But we don't want things to be uneven..." and with that, she picked up a crate, pried the top off of it, and slammed it down over Wash's head.

"What?!" Wash yelled in confusion, but Carolina shoved him over, stuffed his legs inside the crate and put the lid back on it. York nonchalantly sat down atop the crate and folded his arms, assuming a relaxed position.

"So Agent Carolina, what brings you here?" He said.

"You know, the usual. Looking for a drink, scoping out the hotties..." York's mouth hung open, as he was sure everyone else's did.

"Did I just hear Carolina say 'hotties'?" Wash asked from inside the crate.

"Quiet inmate!" York said, and kicked his current seat. York reached up and removed his helmet, popping the seals and sighing with relief as a cool breeze met his face. "That feels good." He said quietly.

Carolina sat down behind him, and the two leaned against each other for support in silence for a few minutes. York started falling asleep, and his head drooped lower, until he found himself face-planted in the grass in front of him.

"What the...?" He muttered as he stood and dusted himself off. He noticed Carolina had removed her helmet and was smirking at him, trying not to smile, while a few of the simulation troopers looked quizzically at him before continuing their conversations. The greenish-blueish trooper was currently being punched by Niner, the dark red one was arguing with Lazy, and Sarge seemed to have collected a tank somewhere and was using it to shoot in the vicinity of Lazy. Utah and Georgia were sitting next to each other leaning against the Pelican, talking.

Caboose now had his assault rifle and was marching in a tight square around North's crate. North said something York didn't catch, but Caboose quickly hit the metal crate with the but of his rifle.

"The Warden ordered silence, prisoner!" He yelled.

"Who's the warden?" York asked quietly, but Caboose stiffened and looked at him, standing at attention.

"You are, Mister Agent New York Sir!" Caboose saluted.

"I am? Oh, well then...carry on." York was confused. How did this group ever storm a Freelancer base? He still liked Caboose though. "Hm...'Mister Agent New York Sir'. I could get used to that."

"Don't." Carolina said with a playful warning in her voice.

"What? I just like being number one sometimes." York held his hands up on a non-threatening stature.

"You've always been someone's number one, York. They just might have been too caught up in what they were doing to realize."

York looked confusedly at her. Carolina rolled her eyes and punched him in the arm, then got up and walked over to where Georgia and Utah were sitting.

"Were you talking about..." She had stopped listening by that point.

"Mister Agent New York Sir! The prisoner says he cannot feel his legs!" Caboose was talking now.

"Tell him to wiggle. But not to move." York laughed to himself. "So..." He said, walking over to the other three Freelancers, "You have any food here? I'm starving."

"Ooh, ooh, I know!" The dark red one said, raising his hand and jumping.

"I think I'm going to end up having a problem with this guy..." York said quietly, then got him to stop jumping and show him to the food.

As he grabbed a sandwich, York grinned at Carolina, who was animatedly talking with Georgia. She noticed him and scowled, then almost-smiled before turning back to her conversation. Then the Lazy one started screaming as Sarge shot at him with the tank. York sighed.

He was going to have his work cut out for him here.

_**Author's Note: I'm really sorry this one took me forever, I already had the first two written, and it was tough to do this right when I was writing at two different times. Anyway, what did you think? Is that a good ending? Should I re-write it, continue it, give up asking questions to people that won't be able to answer while I'm writing them but hopefully will answer later? Probably. Please leave a review, they are love!**_


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